>■ ^0■ '^. <1^- * nv Y » o ^ ^v v^ ^ • -c •^^ V^ * x^ ^^ \d^ 9 s. r ■«■ ' .0 ;-i^r ^N^ >0 o^ /;>. v^^^- ^0^. V o \' <, 1 ^^ . \ ,, N , "^ ■' a 4 "< ■»^^ ^^ -■ .^'^' V^ ,d^ "^r- .^V"^ -^ ,< 4\y ^/> • ,0 o^ -0" FRAGMENTS IN PROSE AND VERSE, I BY MISS ELIZABETH SMITH, n I.ATELY DECEASED. WITH SOME ACCOUNT OP HER LIFE AND CHARACTER, BY H. M, BOWDLER. BOSTON : PUBLISHED BY MUNROE & FRANCIS, AND SAMUEL H. PARKER. 1810. Munroe Ijf Francis, printers. PREFACE. JL HE favour with which memoirs and letters are (generally received by the public, has encouraged the production of a great many biographical works, written on very different principles, and which must be perused with very different feelings. The delight, with which every friend of science and virtue reads the life of Sir William Jones, of Dr. Beattie, of Mr. Covvper, or of Mrs. Carter, can furnish no excuse for publications, in which some of the most vicious char- acters that disgrace the present times, are dragged into notice to disgust or to corrupt succeeding generations. For such an insult on the principles and the taste of the reader, no apology can be offered ; but when the character that is brought before the public is really de- serving of esteem, the feeling heart will view with in- dulgence the partial fondness of surviving friendship, which endeavours to save from oblivion the object of its affection, and to stre^v a few flowers on the humble- tomb of departed virtue. The following pages will not be found to contain a single sentence which can give pain to any human be- ing ; and though noticing in this collection was writ- ten with a view to publication, yet as the delicacy which always shrunk from observation cannot now be wounded by praise or blame, it is, I hope, allowable to remove the veil wluch an excess of modest reserve threw over uncommon merit. The Young Lady, whose talents and virtues are here pointed out to the reader, was little known in the World. Her short life was spent in retirement, and it affords no incidents to awaken curiosity ; but it offers an example, which may be useful to all her sex, and particularly to the younger part of it ; and I am en- couraged to hope, that her writings naay not be unin- teresting to readers of a very different description.* I have only noticed such circumstances in her " short and simple annals," as seemed necessary to explain her letters, and to shew the progress of her improve- ment in different branches of science. The use which she made of learning, and the effect which it produced on her conduct in life, may be collected. * See Letter XII. from the Rev. Dr. Ranpolph to Mrs. Smith, in the Appendix. [ V ] from many parts of the following work, which will prove that every acquisition in science only increased the humility of her natural character ; while exten- sive reading, and deep reflection, added strength to her conviction of those great truths of revealed religion, which in life and in death supported her through every trial, and which can alone afford consolation to the parents and friends who live to mourn her loss. 1* ADVERTISEMENT. Xn compliance with what appears to be the general wish, the names of the persons mentioned in the Fragments are inserted in this edition ; and witli a grateful sense of the indulgence with which this little work has been received by the public, I have ventured to replace several passages in Miss Smith's letters, which have hitherto been omitted. Some letters with which I have lately been favoured by the lady to whom they are addressed, will probably be considered as a valuable addition to this collection ; and I flatter myself that anecdotes which were thought too trifling for publication when the name of the author was con- cealed, may now appear interesting, as contributing to throw light on a character which must be esteemed in proportion as it is known. To the younger part of my own sex, who admire the talents of my lamented friend, and wish to follow her steps in the paths of sci- ence, I beg leave to point out the following observa- tions, extracted from a late excellent publication. [ viii ] " Against learning, against talents of any kind, no- thing can steady the head, unless you fortify the heart with real Christianity. In raising the moral edifice, we must sink deep in proportion as we build high. We must widen the foundation, if we extend the su- perstructure. Religion alone can counteract the as- pirings of genius, can regulate the pride of talents. And let such women as are disposed to be vain of their comparatively petty attainments, look up with admira- tion to those contemporary shining examples, the ven- erable Elizabeth Carter, and the blooming Eliz- abeth Smith. I knew them both, and to know was to revere them. In them let our young ladies contem- plate profound and various learning, chastised by true christian humility. In them let them venerate acquire- ments which would have been distinguished in an Uni- versity, meekly softened, and beautifully shaded, by the gentle exertion of every domestic virtue, the un- affected exercise of every feminine employment." Calebs in search of a Wife. MISS SMITH'S LIFE, &c. Miss Elizabeth smith was born at Burnhall, near Durham, (the beautiful residence of her paternal ancestors,) in Dec. 1776. Some particulars relating to the early part of her life may be learnt from a letter written soon after her death by her afflicted mother to the Rev. Dr. Randolph, in consequence of his request that she would inform him of such circum- stances with regard to the gradual progress of her daughter's mind, as had not come under his own ob- servation.* I will only mention here a few particulars} ■which seem necessary to explain her writings. When I first saw Miss Smith, in the summer of the year 1789, she was only in her thirteenth year, and * See Appendix. Letter I. 10 MISS smith's life. her extreme timidity made it difficult to draw her int« conversation ; but even then I saw many proofs of ve- ry uncommon talent. We were frequently together during the three following years, either at Piercefield, where Mr. and Mrs. Smith then resided, or at Bath, where Miss Smith and her sisters were often with us. At that time Elizabeth astonished us by the facility with which she acquired information on every subject. She excelled in every thing that she attempted. Mu- sic, Dancing, Drawing, and Perspective were then her chief pursuits, and she succeeded in all ; but even at that early age her greatest pleasure seemed to be read- ing, which she would pursue with unwearied attention, during so many hours, that 1 often endeavoured to draw her away from her books, as I feared that such close application might injure her health. She was then well acquainted with the French and Italian languages, and had made considerable progress in the study of Geometry, and some other branches of the mathemat- ics. At every period of her life she was extremely fond of poetry. The following fragment is dated in June 1792. I. The Sun, just rising from his wat'ry bed. Shook from his golden locks the briny drops ; The Earth her many-colour'd mantle spread. And caught the crystal on her flow'rets' tops ; While nature smil'd, to see her rising crops With brighter beauty glow, and richer hues ; As novvr the night her sable chariot stops. Each drooping flow'r, refresh'd with morning dewSj Lifts its gay head, and all around its fragrance strews': MISS smith's life. 11 II. So fair the morn, when Emma, fairer still, Left the lone cottage, now her sole reti-eat ; And wander'd musing- o'er the neighb'ring hill. With downcast eyes, wbicii weeping look'd more sweet, Down to the vale she turn'd her trembling feet ; There, in the middle of a shady wood, O'erhung with trees, which branch to branch did meet. Glided a gentle stream, where, as it stood. Each bougti its image shew'd in the clear glassy flood. III. Here paus'd the Nymph, and on the hank reclin'd, 'Neath a large oak fann'd by each gentle gale ; She swell'd the brook with tears, with sighs the wind. And thus her melancholy fate 'gan wail . And ye who read her sad and mournful tale. Oh ! drop one tender sympathetic tear ! Think that the best of human kind is frail. Nor knows the moment when his end is near ; But all sad Emma's hapless fate must fear. IV. *' How fair each form in youthful fancy's eyes, *' Just like the tender flow'rs of blooming May ; " Like them in all their beauty they ai-ise, " Like them they fade, and sudden die away. *• We mourn their loss, and wish their longer stay, *' But all in vain ; — no more the flow'rs return, •" Nor fancy's images divinely gay ! *' So pass'd my early youth ; then in its turn " Each fancied image pleas'd ; for each at times I bum . V. *' How charming then o'er hill and vale to stray, *' When first the sun shot forth his morning beam ; " Or when at eve he hid his golden ray, ■"To climb the rocks, and catch the last faint gleam ; \^ MISS smith's life. ** Or when the moon imbrued in blood did seem, *' To watch her rising from the distant hill, " Her soft light trembling on the azure stream, " Which gently curl'd, while all beside was still ; *' How would such scenes my heart with admiration fill ! VI. " But now, alas ! those peaceful days are o'er ; " Fled like the summer breeze that wakes the dawn, " Wafts spicy odours swift from shore to shore, " And gathers all the fragrance of the lawn ; *' Yet ere his noon-day crown the sun adorn, "'Tis past, 'tis gone ; no more the scorching plains *' Can shew where blew the gentle breath of morn ; ** The brook, the cattle, and the shepherd swains, " All seek the shade ; — but peace for Emma none remains." In May, 1792, Miss Hunt accompanied me to Piercefield ; and it is not extraordinary that similarity of talents and pursuits, as well as sympathy in every thing that is good and amiable, should lead Elizabeth to attach herself strongly to her. From that time a correspondence began, from which I have made a fe\V extracts, to shew what were her studies and amuse- ments at fifteen years of age. " TO MISS HUNT. i'July r, 1792. « I am much obliged to you for all the information in your last letter, and I hope I have found out what you wanted. I have been measuring circles, and find that my former conjecture was right : Sec. See. I know not whether I have explained this properly, but MISS smith's life. 13 so it appears to me. I was a little mortified to see that my table was not quite exact, tliough I fear it is as near as it can be brought ; but if tliis way of making equal squares and circles is right, it will make me amends. The line in Dante is very applicable, but I desire you will not begin to despair yet. I do not, though there are many things that I prefer to these Mathematics. At the head of them stands Poetry. I thought some parts of Tasso extremely fine. Dante I have not read. At present I am engaged in an argu- ment with my dear Miss Bowdler, concerning Os- sian. I support him against all other poets. You may easily guess who will get the better ; but I will say all I can for Ossian, for I really love his poems beyond all others. Milton must stand alone ; but surely Ossian is in some resficcts superior to Homer. Can you find any thing equal to his descriptions of nature ; h.is Ad- dress to the Sun in Carthon, that to the Moon in Dar- thula, and the last hymn ? Surely in " the joy of grief," and in night scenes, there is nothing equal to him. I would rather read the description of one of his ghosts than of all Homer's gods. One of my greatest reasons for admiring him is, that all his heroes are so good. There is not one of them that would be guilty of a cru- el action for the world, nor would they insult over the dead. In short one cannot help loving almost every person Ossian mentions. Besides there are no vulgar descriptions, but every word is poetry. By way of comparison, look at some particular description in Ho- mer and in Ossian ; suppose it is a moon-light ; you 2 14 MISS smith's life. "will find but one of any consequence in Homer, and then it is only a simile, though a very beautiful one ; it begins at the 687th line of the 8th book. Compare it with any one of the vast number you will find in Ossian. I think the idea of the Moon retiring to weep for the sisters she has lost, is finer than all the philos- ophy on the subject, I love your flowery meadows, and murmuring streams ; but I cannot help preferring rude mountains, roaring torrents, and rocky precipices. I could wander with pleasure in your sequestered vale, but should feel more transported by the gran- deur of one of Ossian's night scenes," &:c. « From my Library^ July 27, 1792. " I am really ashamed, when I look at the date of your kind letter, and particularly when I consider how good you were in writing to me so soon ; but the truth is, we are all in such confusion, with an old house about our ears, and so pushed about from one room to another, that I have not been able to command a quiet hour to write to you. However, Kitty and I are now settled in the Library, and here I will endeavour to make up for my former negligence. I wish I had you and Miss Bowdler to help me pull the books about, and then I should not wish for a better house. " We have not received any certain information re- specting the Castle ; but I am inclined to give it, what- ever it was, to Llewellyn ap Grylfydd,whom we have de- MISS smith's life. 15 termined to kill on a piece of ground adjoining to it ; and Mr.WiLLiAMs,\vhois writing the history of Monmouth- shire, told us that Buillt, where it has been said he died, is somewhere near this place ; he does not know exact- ly where it is, but we will find it out. I am sure it is in our woods. If this be not true, it is at least such a pretty little fiction, and so harmless, that I really must believe it. I wish you would write a poem on his death, and place it in our wood. You must say that it is translated from an old Welsh bard, and that will set the matter beyond a doubt. " You must not expect any thing very bright from me to-day, for my head aches very much ; and as to the hand-writing, I can never write well when my heart is concerned. I have given you a specimen of my very worst to prove that you are in high favour. If you should ever receive a letter from me written like copper-plate, depend upon it I am going to quarrel with you. If on the contrary you cannot read my scrawl, be assured it is all love and gratitude, and re- main satisfied with that ; at least I hope so, for the on- ly pleasure I can hope to give you is by telling you that I am your sincerely affectionate." " August 13. " I am so delighted with what you say of Llewellyn, that I cannot rest till I write to you. Has Mrs. Graves shewn the manuscript to any person who miderstands Welsh ? She would not perhaps like to trust the orig- 16 Aiiss smith's life. inal out of her own hands, but if she would have it cop- ied we could easily get it translated for her, and should consider ourselves highly obliged by a sight of it. If it is what Mrs. Gkaves supposes, it w ill indeed be in- valuable. I have a great mind to believe that our Cas- tle in the wood is the Castle of Buillt, for no one seems to know exactly where that is ; and if the prince was killed in our grounds, it certainly is so. I hope the manuscript will settle all our doubts ; at present we are obliged to fight hard, with every body we meet, in maintiiining our cause. I am charmed with the name of Gwillim of Gwhent, the Blue Knight : it would be a good one for the hero of a romance. " Could you see the state our house is in, you would not think it possible to live in it ; half the walls pull'd down, foundations dug, and heaps of rubbish every ■where. I admire the date of your letter ; it would have suited the Mistress of Gwillim of Gwhent ; but you should have a better name than Mary to please him^ though not to please me, for while it belongs to you I shall ever love it." The Castle mentioned in these letters requires some explanation. Elizabeth discovered some remains of buildings in a wood, and thought she could trace out sevei'al round towers, a moat, &c. I remember our walking over the spot where her lively imagination had built a Castle, of which she drew a plan from the slight traces which remained. She was then unacquain- MISS smith's life. 17 ted with architecture ; but I shewed her little draw- ing to a gentleman who perfectly understood the sub- ject, and he said that he believed she wss right in her conjecture, for the plan she had drawn was ex- actly what Avas usually adopted by the Romans in their castles. The following paper will shew the in- defatigable application with which Elizabeth pursu- ed the inquiries, which a passage in Warrington's History* of Wales led her to make, in regard to the * Account of the death of Llewellyn, from Warrington's History of Wales, page 509. " Llewellyn proceeded to the cantrew of Buillt, near the water of Wye. — — " The Prince was waiting in a small grove. On the enemies first assault, his Esquire came to inform him that he heard a great outcry at the bridge. The Prince eagerly asked if his people were in possession of tlie bridge ; and being told that they were, he calmly replied, then he would not stir from thence, though the whole power of England were on the other side of the river. This confidence, though not improperly placed, lasted but a moment, the grove being surrounded by the enemies horse. Beset on every side, and cut oft' from his army, Llewellyn endeavoured as secretly as he could to make good his retreut, and to join the troops he had stationed on the mountain, who, drawn up in battle array, were eagerly ex- pecting the return of their prince. In making this attempt, he was discovered and pvu-sued by Adam de Francton, who perceiving him to be a Welshman, and not knowing bis quali- ty, plunged his spear into the body of flie prince, being iinarm- ed and incapable of defence. The Welsh were afterwards defeated, and left two thousand m?n dead on the field. All 2* 18 MISS smith's life. situation of Buillt, and some other circumstancea mentioned by him. " Arthur seems to have been king of Gwhent^ which comprehended all Monmouthshire, part of the dioceses of Hereford and Worcester, and the part of Glocestershire between the Wye and the Severn. Milton mentions Buillt in Brecknockshire. Camden mentions Kair-Lheon as a great city, having three churches, one of which was honoured with the metro- politan see of Wales. Here the Roman Ambassadors received their audience at the illustrious court of the great King Arthur. " The ancient register of Landaff, amongst many benefactions made to that church in the times of Du- bricius, Telian, and Odoceus, the three first bishops of the see, recites at length two grants, one of the lands of St. Kinmare, by Arthur king of Gvvent, son of Mouric king of Glamorgan, who gave Moch-ros to Dubricius ; the other of Caerleon by another Arthur, king also of Gvvent, but the son of Funvail king of the same country. Funvail defeats the Saxons at Tyn- terne, and dies at Malherne, Avhich his son gives to thjs lime Llewellyn lay on the grovind, faint, and almost ex- piring. He had just life enough remaining to ask for a priest A wliite friar, who chanced to be present, administered to the dying prince the last duties of his office. The hurry of the action being ended, Fr<^cton came back to strip the person he had wounded. On viewing the body, which was still breath- ing, it was found, to the great joy of the English army, that it was the pi-ince of Wales." MISS smith's life. 19 Cardiffe in the year 560. About A. D, 6G0, the arch- bishopric ot Caerleon was removed to St. David's. " Upon the river Wye is Buiilt. Whether this town be the ancient Bullceumj or whether that cily or fort were not at a place called Kareen, some miles dis- tant from it, may be questioned. If it be urged in favour of Buiilt, that it sesms still to retain its ancient name ; it may be answered, that Buiilt, which I inter- pret Ox-clift", or Oxen-hill, was the name of a small country here, from whence in all probability the an- cient BullcEum was denominated ; but that being to- tally desti'oyed, and this town becoming afterwards the most noted place of the country, it might receive its name from it as the former had done. But since the congruity of the names was the main argument that induced our learned author to assign this situation to the ancient Bulloeum Silurum, we sliall have occasion of hesitating, if hereafter we find the ruins of a Ro- man fort or city in a neighbouring county of the Si- lures."— Car? A tiger's heart he bears beneath that face. Which seems to promise honour, goodness, grace . 26 MISS smith's life. Let lightning flash, And thunder growl. Let torrents dash. And the black tempest o'er me scowl t This soul, in unison with every guest. Shall rage and burn till I be turn'd to dust ; Ne'er shall I patient brook my country's doom. But sighing, sorrowing, sink into the tomb. Daughters of Cambria, with me mourn, Sing the sad wee-bi-eathing strain ; From your fair heads the ringlets torn Scatter round th' ensanguined plain. No more in summer's even tide Your gentle flocks you'll lead To where the brook, with flowery side. Slow wanders through the mead ; But soon to conquerors rude a prey. You'll quit your native land. And drag through life your mournful way, A wretched, captive band ! Warriors, break the sounding mail. Cast down the lance, the helm untie ; Arms shall now no more avail. For you before the foe shall fly. No more, in deeds of arms renown'd. You'll dare the single fight ? MISS smith's life. SY Or with exulting laurels crown'd. Assert your country's right ; But to the woods and marshes driv'n, Ingloriously you'll sigh ; For ah ! to you it is not giv'n Amidst your friends to die ! To Piercefield's Cliffs I'll now a pilgrim go, Shed o'er my Prince belov'd the tears of woe ; There will I seek some deep and rocky cell. Amidst the thick entangled wood to dwell ; There indulge my plaintive theme, To the wan moon's icy beam ; While the rocks responsive ring. To my harp's high-sounding string ; Vaga stops her rolling tide, List'ning to her ancient pride ; Birds and beasts my song attend. And mourn with me our country's fatal end ! My friends spent three months in Bath, and we past iwany happy hours together, till Mrs. Smith and her family went to Piercefield on the 28th of Feb. The following letter was written the day before they set out from B»ith. MISS smith's life. " TO MISS HUNT. Bath, Feb. 27, 1793. " I am quite ashamed, my dear fiitnd, to find that I have been so long- in debt for your charming letter ; though, to speak properly, I shall always be so, for I cannot return one like it. I might at least have &aid " I thank you ;" but you know how little time is to be had here ; and I know, and presume upon, your goodness in excusing my idleness, and know too that I have not thought of you the less for not telling you so. " Miss BowDLER and I wish for you every day, so that you are in no danger of being forgotten between iis ; and whilst we remember you, we cannot forget to love you. I am much obliged to you for all the trouble you have taken about the places I wished to find, but I believe it is a fruitless search. I am per- suaded their situation is not known, and I intend to place them where I choose to have them. " The above was written this morning, when I did not expect to leave this place before Friday, but I now find we are to go home to-morrow ; and I must, how- ever unwillingly, make an end of my letter. I hope to have more time at Piercefield, where we are now all to meet, after having been scattered over the face of the earth for the last half year. I shall be exces- sively grieved, as you can imagine, to leave our dear friend j but otherwise I shall not regret Bath." MISS smith's life. 29- At the commencement of the war, in the year 1793, many Banks in the West of England failed, and Mr. Smith's was unfortunately of that number. The domestic happiness to which Elizabeth looked for- ward when she wrote the last letter, was fatally inter- rupted by this event ; and I received from her the following letter, written only five days after she left Bath. The importance of the subject probably indu- ced me to preserve this letter, when I destroyed ma- ny others which I shall never cease to regret. Alas ! I little thought that I should live to mourn the early death of my amiable young friend, whose talents and virtues were my pride and delight, and who I hoped would have been an ornament and a blessing to the world, long after I was removed from it I^— It has pleased Goi> to order otherwise. « Piercefield, March 3, 1793. " We were within an hour of setting off from hence, and intended to have seen you, my dearest friend, to- morrow ; when we were prevented, and I may say it is the only time I have ever rejoiced at being prevent- ed seeing you. Last night, after my mother wrote to you, we were informed by a friend that there was an execution against my father. At ten o'clock at night the under-sheriff, &c. came to take possession of the house. It was secured, so that they could not enter ; but you may imagine the horror of our situation in that night of storms. Fortunately,thenext day being Sunday^ 3* 30 MISS smith's life. We had to watch only till twelve o'clock ; and to-day We were preparing to go away at eight this evening, when we heard that my father's attorney was come from London, that the money was provided, and the execution stopped. There is to be a meeting of creditors to-morrow, who are to have an exact state- ment of all the concerns of the Bank. My Mother supported herself wonderfully last night, but to-day she was quite exhausted, till this news revived her a little. Mr. and Mrs, were m dreadful anxiety this morning, but I hope they too are a little com- forted ;* in short the prospect now appears bright to what it did two hours ago, and we shall all, 1 hope, bear whatever happens with fortitude. Above all, my beloved friend, I intreat you not to be uneasy, for I trust all will be well. My only apprehension has been for my Mother ; and I confess it has been hard work to appear cheerful, when I saw her agitated to the greatest degree, and knew I could in no way be of * In the summer of the year 1791, when the Bank was in & very flourisliing state, Mr. , who was the neighbour and friend of" Mr. Smith, put his name in the firm, without ad- vancing any part of the capital, or receiving' any share of the emoluments ; but on condition tliat his son should be taken into the house as a clerk, and be admitted a partner on liis coming of age. In consequence of this circumstance, Mr. was involved in the misfortune which happened in the ye;ir 1793 ; to the regret of all who knew him, and particu- larly of ilie Smii h fr.n.ily, as all the letters which 1 i?e«eivqd from them attiiis period strongly prove. MISS smith's life, 5J the least use ; but she shewed great resolution when- ever it Avas necessary. My Father now writes in bet- ter spirits, and I am happy to see her a little more at ease. My Mother desires me to say a thousand kind things for her. The servants have behaved nobly, and she has had all the comfort that friends can give. If she had none but you, she would be rich enough ; and I shall wish for nothing more, while I know you are mine. Adieu, my dearest — " I went to Piercefield on the following day ; but I will not attempt to describe the scene to which I was then a witness. Afflictions so nobly supported make the sufferers objects of envy rather than pity ; a change of fortune, so sudden, and so unexpected, was a great trial, but it was received in a manner to command the respect of all who witnessed it. I had long seen and admired Mrs. Smith, in the situation in which she seemed peculiarly formed to shine : in one of the finest places in England, surrounded by her lovely children, with all the elegant comforts of aflfluencej and delighting her happy guests by the fascinating charms of her conversation. Through all the raisfer- tunes which marked the period of which I am now speaking, I can with truth say of Mrs. Smith, what she says of her beloved daughter, that I do not recol- lect a single instance of a murmur having escaped her, on account of the loss of fortune ; but there were oth- er circumstances attending this sad event, which su.cli 32 MISS smith's life. a heart as hers must deeply feel ; and a letter which is now before me, speaks the language of all that I received from her at that period : " The business is again delayed. I aiTi averse to this prolongation of our misery, but it is a duty we owe to Mr. and Mrs. — — to do every thing which can be likely to save them. Oh, my friend, if this amiable family were but secure, I should be no longer miserable ; but as it is, the thought of their situation sometimes sinks me al- most to despair." This was an affliction, under which even conscious rectitude was not sufficient to support her ; but the loss of fortune, as it was occasioned nei- ther by extravagance nor vice, and dignified by such conduct as secured the respect and esteem of their friends, was supported by every individual of the fam- ily with truly christian fortitude and resignation. In a few days after I went to Piercefield, my friends quitted it for ever ; and the young ladies spent seven or eight months with us, in and near Bath. The time which was thus spent with my mother, was certainly of great advantage to my young friends ; for she was extremely fond of them, and nothing can be more just than what Mrs. Smith says of her peculiarly happy manner of conveying instruction. Many of their favourite pursuits had been interrupted. They had lost the sublime scenes of Piercefield, which fur- nished an infinite variety of subjects for the pencil. They drew extremely well, and Elizabeth was com- pletely mistress of perspective. Her musical tal- ents were very uncommon : she played remarkably MISS SMITH 3 LIFE. 3.J well both on the Piano-Forte and Harp, but she bad lost her mstruments. The library, of which she so well knew the value, was gone. Always averse to large parties, and with no taste for dissipation, she readily agreed to a plan of employment proposed by my Mother, and we entei'ed on a regular course of history, both ancient and modern. At other times we studied Shakspeare, Milton, and some other English poets, as well as some of the Italians. We took long walks, and often drew from nature. We read with great attention the whole of the New Testament, Seeker's Lectures on the Catechism, and several other books on the same important subjects. After my Mother retired to rest, we usually studied the stars, and read Bonycastle's Astronomy, which reminds me of the following circumstance. Elizabeth told me one evening that she did not understand what is said in Bonycastle, page 91, of Kepler's celebrated calculation, by which he discovered that the squares of the periods of the planets are in proportion to the cubes of their distances. She wanted to know how to make use of this rule, but I confessed my inability to assist her. When I came down to breakfast at nine the next morning, I found her with a folio sheet of pa- per almost covered with figures ; and I discovered that she rose as soon as it was light, and by means of Bonycastle's Arithmetic, had learnt to extract the cube- root, and had afterwards calculated the periods and dis- tances of several planets, so as clearly to shew the ac- curacy of Kepler's rule, and the method of employing 34 MISS smith's life. it. In such pursuit s as I have inentioned, I could ac- company her ; but in others, she had a much better assistant in our mutuul friend, Miss Hunt, who^ fortu- nately for us, spent four months in our neighbourhood, and was the companion of our studies and our pleas- ures. She led Miss Smith to the study of the Ger- man language, of which she was af'erwards particular- ly fond. She assisted her in Botanical and other pur- suits, as well as indifferent branches of the Mathemat- ics. I do not know when Elizabeth began to learn Spanish, but it was at an earlier period than that of which I am now speaking ; when she was with us, she seemed to read it without' difficulty, and some hours every morning before breakfast were devoted to these studies. She acquired some knowledge of the Arabic and Persian languages during the following winter, when a very fine dictionary and grammar, in the pos- session of her brother, led her thoughts to Oriental literature. She began to study Latin and Greek in the year 1794, when Mr. Claxton's excellent library, and improving conversation, opened to her an inexhausti- ble fund of information. She studied Hebrew from my Mother's Bible, with the assistance of Parkhurst ; but she had no regular instruction in any lan- guage except French. Her love of Ossian led her to acquire some knowledge of the Erse language, but the want of books made it impossible for her to pursue that study ^s far as she wished. Some extracts from her letters will shew how she was employed during the following years. MISS smith's life. 35 Miss Hunt went into Devonshire in July, and the conespondence between her and Miss Smith was renewed. « TO MISS HUNT. « Si. Winifred's Dale, Jug. 18, 1793. " I have had it in contemplation to write to you, my dear friend, but I am very glad to be set to work immediately by the receipt of your kind letter, for ■which a thousand thanks. You were not mistaken in supposing it would be acceptable to me, for I am al- ways happy to hear from you. " Even if your letters had not sufficient merit to make them interesting to an indifferent person, I should love them as coming from you ; how much then must I value them, considered as what they are. Believe me, we miss you as much as you can possibly miss us. We never take a pleasant walk, or read any thing interesting, but some one says, I ivis/i Miss Hunt were here ; and you may be sure that no- body contradicts it. Besides all other reasons for this wish, I want to shew you every pretty passage I meet with in German, which I do not like half so well now that I have no one to enjoy it with me. I long to study Cicero mth you, and certainly will, if we are so fortunate as to live near you, in which I promise my- self great pleasure if we stay in England. I admire the German you sent me extremely. I have read none since you left me, except two books of Dr. Ran- 36 EJiss smith's life. '^ dolph's : Der Golden Spiegel, which is an imitation of an Eastern tale, by way of making dissertations upon government. It is entertaining, and there is an account of a happy valley, that makes one long to live in it. The other book is VViessen's Poems*, some of which are very pretty. I will send you a specimen, if I have time. I was, as well as you, delighted with the Messiah. " You do my Tintern Abbey great honour in desir- ng to see it. I should have sent it by this convey- ance, but Miss BowDLER advised its waiting till we go ourselves into Devonshire. We are just going to church, and in the fear of not having more time, let me assure you of the sincere affection with which I am ever yours. " Pray tell me whether the puzzle you sent is to be made out in Spanish or English ; though you had bet- ter tell me the meaning of it at once, for I never can find out any thing of the kind. Once more adieu. I will send a longer and I hope a better letter soon, and the German Poem also." " October 1 5. ' " I will not tell you how sorry I was for your illness, nor how anxivously I wished for your recovery, because I trust you know me well enough to believe that I cannot be indifferent to any thing that so nearly con- cerns you. Indeed I have been, and still am, very * liVrische Gedlchte. S vol. Jttiss smith's life. 37 anxious for better accounts, which I hope we may now daily expect, particularly after Miss Burges's return. For your sake I am glad she is going, but for my own I cannot help exceedingly regretting it ; as I wished very much to be acquainted with her, botk ft'om what I have heard you say, and from the very little I have seen of her myself ; which gave me so great a desire to see more, that if I had not feared to be thought troublesome and impertinent, I should certainly have called by myself, besides the formal visit with the rest of our party ; but I considered that she could not possibly have the s.mie wish to know me that! had to know her, and therefore I would not intrude. "I have a nice collection of German books, which Miss BowDLER has borrowed for ine. There is the Iliad, which seems to me a very good translation. I think the sound is more regularly fine than Pope's, and some of the descriptions of nature are much supe- rior to his ; but the tender sentiments which tiie learn- ed say are not in the original, are not to be traced in the German translation. In that respect we shall all prefer Pope. There is the Messiah, which I am reading a second lime with more pleasure than the first. A ve- ry pretty collection of Poems by different persons ; a Novel ; and a book of Plays ; so you see I am well furnished at present. I wish I had you to enjoy them with me. " My favourite study just now is Algebra ; and I find by Saunderson, that if we had consulted proper books, we should never have spent so much time in 4 38 MISS SMITH S LIFE. measuring squares and circles ; for though by the means we used, (which were perfectly right,) it may be brought inconceivably near, it is impossible to prove it mathematically exact. For example. 1 hope you will not have the head-ach when this arrives, or you will wish my mathematics at Bath again ; but when I have learnt any thing that we used to puzzle about together, I am never easy till you know it." " November J 7. " Send me no Latin quotations, for I understand them only when the translation comes with them. I have just finished Klopstock's Messiah, which I have been reading again, as I did not above half understand it before. There is more of it than there was in Miss BuRGEs's, which was, I believe, only fifteen books. This is in twenty-two books, and is continued to the Ascension, with many hymns and songs afterwards. He supposes at that time a day of judgment, and that Abandona was pardoned. Pray inform Miss Bukges of this, for I remember hearing her regret his fate." «^/in7 7, 1794. " I have not thought of you the less because I have been too idle to write. You kno\F it is an old fault of mine, and it will be only wasting your time and my own to make an apology as long as my silence. I am very rich in German books just now, for Dr. Ran- MISS smith's LIfE. 39 DOLPH who has a great many, has given me the entre of his library, to take whatever I like. I have got your friend Kiiest, which I think delightful ; Haller's Po- ems ; and Zimmerman's Einsamkeit, which pleases me more than almost any book I ever read. How much am I obliged to you for teaching me German ! I assure you I never read a beautiful passage, without thinking it is to you I owe the pleasure I enjoy, and wishing you could enjoy it Avith me ; for after all it is but a selfish sort of thing to read merely to entertain oneself. There are some icfeas in Zimmerman upon a future state very like your book.* I envy you ex- tremely in reading Virgil. I must learn Latin some day or other. At present I am puzzling at Persian and Arabic, and I mean to begin Hebrew. I get on least with Spanish, for I have been able to meet with only one book since I read Don Quixote, which was the History of the Incas, by Garcillasso de la Vega. I was very much pleased with it, though it is very long, and in some parts tedious. I wish I had your patience to translate from one language to another, for I believe it is the only way of being perfect in any ; but I succeed so ill in writing, of any kind, that I never like to attempt it. I met with a thought in Haller, which was new to me, and pleased me much ; but, perhaps, if you have met with it before, it may not strike you as it did me. Speaking of the weakness of reason without revelation, he says, * Essay on the Happiness of the Life to Come. 49 :^iss smith's lisk. " Vernunft kan, wie der mond, ein trost der dunkeln 21eiteii, " Uns durch die braune nacht mit halbem schimmer leiten j " Der warheit morgen-roht zeigt erst die wahre welt, " Wann Gottes sonnen-licht durch unser dammrung fallt."* « I forgot to thank you for all the trouble you took about Canada. It was very kind indeed, and there- fore like yourself ; but I am sorry to say it was to no purpose, for il is entirely given up ; much against my will, for I was delighted with the idea, and wished excessively to go, but I despair of ever seeing it flow." " Bath, Se/it. 27, 1794. '.' I have no sort of apology to offer for my laziness, snd no claim to your forgiveness, except the assurance that my silence proceeded from no other cause than a fit of the above-mentioned disease, which you know I am often troubled with. If you think this a sufficient reason for pardoning me, it is more than I do myself. It is strange that though we all wish for happiness, few chuse to comply with the conditions by which it may be obtained : thus I have been daily wishing for a let- ter from you, and yet could not persuade myself to write, which I well knew was the only condition on * " Reason, like the moon, a consolation In darkness, can jfiiide lis with its faint rays through the dusky night. The morning dawn of truth shews the real world, when the light of the sun breaks through our twilight." Haller on Reasoriy Superstition, and Infidelity. MISS smith's life. 41 which 1 could expect it. Two circumstances fix me to this point of time. Miss Bowdler is to send a par- cel to-morrow, and we are going to leave Bath and its neighbourhood : not, I assure you, without great re- gret at leaving our good friends here. I cannot help imagining that I am parting from you amongst the rest, in being removed so much further from you, but I hope you will not give me up as an ungrateful wretch not worth your notice, but let me hear from you ; par- ticularly as I shall not hear of you, as I now do, from Miss Bowdler, and because I shall be inconsolable in London if you do not. We are so happy here, seeing our dear friend two or three times every day, that I know not how we shall bear the change. -For my part I promise myself no other pleasure in town but that of seeing some of those I love, happy. As to the place itself, you may suppose it is the last I should chuse " We are just returned from a walk to Prior-Park, with Miss Bowdler ; the last I fear that we shall take together for a long time. She has given me your little book of Astronomy.* It is a very pretty thing. " I have had great store of Spanish lately ; the The- atro Critico Universale, by Feyjoo, a very clever work in 14 volumes : and I am now reading /ios(-/>aste Ma- riana's History of Spain, of which I have only read half, but am determined to finish it before I go. It is not so interesting as some other histories, but one must * Lectures on Astronomy, and N.itural Philosophy. 4* ^2 MISS smith's life. know it. There are so many different states, some- times united, sometimes divided ; so many kings, sometimes all of one name ; now friends, now ene- mies ; so many marriages, so many battles, and so ma- ny treaties, that it seems to me impossible to have a clear idea of the work. You will perhaps think that I read to little purpose. 'With this you will receive Zimmerman. Remember, I do not insist on your ad- miiing the whole, nor do I promise that you will find Haller very poetical. — I am very much hurried, for we are engaged to dine at Mrs. Bowdlkr's. Leben sie ioohl }?ieine theure^ and believe me ever most affection- ately yours." Miss Smith removed with the family to London, in October 1794, and to Shirley in November, from whence she returned to town in February 1795. Shir- ley is the seat of John Claxton, esq. To this gen- tleman, and to his lady, who is nearly related to Mr. Smith, the family always acknowledge the highest ob- ligations.* During four months spent with these val- uable friends. Miss Smith began to study Latin, and the following letter will shew the progress she made. Mr. Claxton authorises me to say that he never gave her any regular instruction, and that his Library did not contain translations of any of ;the books which she mentions in the next letter. * See Mrs. Smith to Dr. Randolph. AppendiXj Lettei* in. MISS smith's life. 43 '« TO MISS HUNT. " London^ Feb. 1795. " I believe I told you I should learn Latin before I saw you next, and Shirley was a very good place for it. I therefore began soon after I went there ; and I have read Cxsar's Commentaries, Livy, and some volumes of Cicero, amongst which I almost wish the letters to his friends had not been, for they shew his jvhole char- acter to be so much put on^ that they have let him down many degrees in my opinion. As to Persian, all my books are at Bath, so that I shall most probably forget the little I knew when I saw you last. I have met with neither German nor Spanish books ; so that if it were not for Latin, I should be quite in despair. I am very impatient to begin Virgil." " March 11, 1795. " I have just finished the second book of the Geor- gics, and was particularly delighted with the last eigh- ty-four verses. The description of the storm in the first book I think is very fine." « Shirley, July 2Q, 1795. " I think as you do of Emilia Galotti. Die Kauber I never saw. Indeed I have scarcely read any Ger- inan or Spanish since I left Bath. I must tell yoii 44 MISS SMITH S LIFE. that I cannot help being quite reconciled to Cicero. I have gone through all that I can find here of his works, and am so fully persuaded that a man who could write as he does could have no ^rm? faults, that I must, with your leave, forgive his little ones. If you have not yet met with it, only read, as a sample, the first book of his Tusculan Disputations, ' de contemnenda morte ;' and I think you will agree with me, that with the addi- tion of Christianity to confirm his suppositions, and rectify a few mistakes in them, and the knowledge of the true state of the universe, no doctrine can be more perfect than his ; and that half the modern books on the subject might have been spared, had the writers of them, before they began, read this dialogue. " I have just finished Clarenllon's History of the Re- bellion, which Miss Bowdler long ago desired me to read. It is extremely interesting and instructive. Here is another of her favourites, Spenser, which I once gave up in despair, but which I am very glad I have read, for I am charmed with it, and I think some of the lesser poems are even superior to the Fairy Queen. We have read Mr. Gisborne's book* aloud and all the party was extremely pleased with it. " I have got a new Atlas of all the remarkable fixed stars that are visible to us, without the figures. I would shew it to you, if you would meet me on the wing of Pegasus, or any other convenient place you will appoint in the upper regions, for it does not seem * On the Duties of Man. MISS smith's life. 45 probable that vve should soon see each other in these below." « Shirley.^ Oct. 5, 1795. " I have been longer than I intended (accordinfj to custom) in answering your kind letter, and now I know not where this will find you. I will however direct toBath, hojjingyour comfortable party is not yet dissolved, though I have little chance of finding you together, as the time of our transplantation ajipears very uncer- tain, and probably is not very near. It was very good of you to wish for me by the sea-side, and I know nothing I should have enjoyed so much as seeing it for the first time with you ; but I cannot help think- ing the companions you had were more agreeable than I should have been. I should like to see what you and your " thoughts and reflections'^ produced. " I am quite delighted with you for teaching our dear friend German, and with her for learning it. You know we have always set our hearts upon her reading it, and only half enjoyed our favourite books while she could not partake of our pleasure. "I' have not seen Gellert. Oberon I have read and was much pleased vvith some parts of it. It is a little in the stile of Ariosto. Pray tell Miss Bubges, (since she does me the honour to enquire,) that of Spenser's lesser poems I was most pleased with As- trophel, some of the Eclogues, particularly January syid June, and the Hymn in honour of Beauty, which 46 MISS smith's life. is as well written as if he had studied Lavater. I have just finished Froissard, which, though rather te- dious, I found very entertaining, and in a much pleas- anter stile than most of the modern French writers. Immediately before this great undertaking, I read the Memoirs of Petrarch, which made a very good line of history, containing the whole of the fourteenth century. With this book I was excessively pleased. It is impossible not to love Petrarch, if it were only for crying when his father threw Cicero and Virgil into the fire. He was a passionate admirer of Cicero, and I think a strong resemblance may be traced be- tween their characters, though the circumstances in which they lived were so different. You see in both the same love of glory, the same patriotism, the same high opinion of himself, which he endeavours to con- ceal from others, perhaps even from himself, by a cloak of humility. You discover in each an equal warmth of friendship ; and I cannot help thinking that if Cicero had met with Laura, or Petrarch had been consul in the flourishing times of the Roman Repub- lic, the former would have been the poet, and the lat- ter the orator. I hope I have improved a littie in Botany this summer as well as you." « March 3, 1796. " Have you seen Mason's new volume of Poems ? There are some very beautiful things in it. I have been feasting lately on German poetry. The Graff MISS smith's life. Alt von Stolberg ; Hnlty ; Matthison ; and a translation of Young. I have been much pleased with Zimmer- man's Nationalstoltz. " My ears are stunned, and my patience exhausted, by the ridiculous and contradictory reports that are in- cessantly vociferated on all sides of rhe. No one can speak or write of any thing but the French. If they have not murdered or enslaved our persons, tliey have at least taken complete possession of our minds, and banished every idea of which they are not the object. As you probably hear as much, and are as tired of them as myself, I will only assure you, that they have not driven from my brain the idea of you, nor from my heart the tender affection with which I am, 8cc." On the 22d of May 1796, Mrs. and Miss Smith set out for Ireland, where they staid only three or four months. Tne following letter was written the day before Elizabeth left Bath. The dejection expressed in it was occasioned by sorrows of a very different description from the loss of fortune. « Bath, Mat) 2 1. »' My lazy fit has lasted so long this time, that I dare not venture to malce any apology for it, and scarcely should I dare to write again, but that I cannot resolve to quit this island without once more assuring my dear friend, that my esteem and affection are not 48 MISS smith's life'. in the least abated by absence, and that I love her ex- actly as much as if I had told her so an hundred times over. " My mother and I set off to-mon-ow morning for Ireland. Lady Eleanor Butlek and Miss Ponsonby have sent us a most obliging invitation to their house, and I hope we shall pass a day and a night there Do you not envy us this visit ? If we could carry you and our beloved friend with us, it would be more than earthly happiness. On the whole, I am extremely pleased with the idea of our expedition ; for besides «j my natural love of rambling, and of seeing and knowing every thing that is worth the trouble, I am weary of the world. To quit it is not in my power ; but in leaving England, I shall leave the only, world with which I am acquainted, the scene of all our miseries. You never before heard me complain of miseries. I never before had any to complain of. Against this negative pleasure in quitting this country, is to be set the positive pain of leaving some very dear friends ; but I seldom see you and Miss Bowdler, and I shall slill have the consolation of loving you. I shall leave my Kitty with great regret, but we must learn to bear it. We are happy in the thoughts of seeing my Father, who has been very uncomfortably situated dur- ing the last year. We talk of returning in the au- tumn, and I am glad it is talked of, because it makes my mother quit England with less reluctance than she otherwise would ; but I strongly suspect that we shall either take up our abode in Ireland, or go abroad IrtISS SMITH S LIFE. 49 wherever the regiment may happen to be ordered ; ' but this is written in the book of fate, and no human eye can read it.' I am grieved at going from Bath just before you come. I have not seen you these two years, and I may be drowned, I may never return, I may never see you again till ' the life to come.' By the by, have you read Lavater's Geheime Tagebuck^k^c? There is in it a quotation from a sermon by his friend Pfenningen, so exactly like your little book, that I want- ed you to read it with me. I can give you no account of my studies, but that I have read nothing in the last half year. " My Mother and I are going this morning to break- fast with and take leave of our dear Miss Bowdler, though I believe I shall not be so satisfied, but make a pvish to see her again after dinner, which is the only time besides breakfast that she has to spare from her constant attendance on poor Mrs. Bowdler. I wish you were here to comfort her ; she wants it sadly. As you probably will be with her great part of the time that we are absent, I hope constantly to hear of her from you. Do not forget me ; and be assured whatever changes may happen to me, of fortune, or habitation, my sincere affection for my Mary will nev- er change. AdieUj perhaps for ever I" The visit in LangoUen Vale more than answered he expectation of my friends, and the very obliging 5 50 MISS smith's life. manner in which they were received, was highly grat- ifying to me. I had a letter from Miss Smith on this subject, which I particularly regret ; but it was de- stroyed with many others. Mrs. and Miss Smith were much pleased with what they saw of Ireland, and very grateful for many civilities received there ; but I have nothing written at that time to Miss Hunt, ex- cept the following short letter. « SHgo, Jugust 8, 1796. " I have not time to say half what I think and feel in answer to your last letter, my dearest Mary ; I will call you so since you like it, though I had forgot that I was ever so impertinent to do it before. I frequent- ly wish for you and our beloved friend, to make you wander through a valley, between mountains tossed to- gether in all the wild and rugged forms imaginable, with an hundred cascades dashing from their summits, and forming a beautiful lake at the bottom ; to shew you the fine effects of light and shade on the hills when the sun shines ; and when he does not, the clouds hid- ing their heads, descending half way down them, and sometimes entirely blotting them out of the landscape ; then breaking away by degrees, and ascending like smoke. I never before knew so well what Ossian meant by the thick mist of the valley, and the ragged skirts of a cloud as it sails slowly over the dark heath. I often think I see the grey cloud of which his father's robe is made. I hope we may meet in the winter ; MISS smith's life. 51 but sometimes I almost despair. However, I shall not be less in one place than another, your tenderly affec- tionate friend." Mrs. and Miss Smith spent four months in Ireland, and returned to Bath in October. At Kingston-Lodge, the seat of the late venerable Earl of Kingston,* they passed some weeks ; and the happiness they enjoyed there was always mentioned by them with the warmest gratitude. From thence they removed with Captain Smith to the Barracks at Sligo, and Elizabeth wrote the following letter to Lady Isabella King, in whose friendship and correspondence she thought herself particularly happy ; and who has favoured me with some extracts from her letters, which I hope will not be uninteresting to those who value the unstudied ef- fusions of a grateful and affectionate heart. TO THE LADY ISABELLA KING. " Sligo, 1796. " A thousand thanks to my dearest Lady Isabella for her charming letter. It is the first comfort I have met with since we parted, for every thing has conspir- ed to remind us of what we were otherwise not at all disposed to forget,— the happiness we enjoyed at Kingston-Lodge. * Edward, father to the late, and grandfather to the present EarJ, j2 miss smith's life. " We were most completely wet long before we reached Sligo, and when we did arrive, we had every thing to unpack, beds to contrive, &c. &c. All our fa- tigues however are at length over, and I hope we shall now go on tolerably well. We have a pretty view of a bay of the sea, (which looks like a lake,) and some fine mountains. How much more beautiful should I think this scene, if you were looking at it with me 1 " We are all very well, and much amused with the little misfortunes that happen to us. You ask what we Jiave been doing, saying, and thinking. For the first, We have been trying to set ourselves in order, and re- ceiving company. As to our words and thoughts, ex- cept the necessary consultations on what was to be done next, I believe they have been chiefly directed towards Kingston-Lodge. How I like Sligo I cannot yet tell, for the day we arrived I was so glad to be in it, that I did not observe how it looked ; and yesterday it rained again, and we did not go out. Thus I have had no opportunity of looking for German books, nor do I much expect to find any. Most heartily do I hope that our garden plan may be realized, because your Ladyship is one of the very few people I think worthy to understand German. This is a high compliment, for in order to feel and relish it thoroughly, it is neces- sary to possess every quality that I most admire. " Lord Kingston must return sooner than Septem- ber, or we must :;tay longer, for should we be gone before you come to Mr. Cooper's, I shall be misera- ble. I have only time to add, and that but imperfect- MISS smith's life. 53 ly, the sincere affection and gratitude Avith which I am ever yours, Sec." In one of Mrs. Smith's letters to the Editor, the removal to Sligo is thus described :— " We had spent three happy weeks at the hospitable mansion of Lord Kingston, from whence we set off on horseback for our quarters, which were about twen- ty miles distant. During the last ten miles of the jour- ney it rained most heavily and without ceasing. We arrived at the Barracks dripping wet ; our baggage was not come, and owing to the negligence of the Quarter-master, there was not even a bed to rest on. The whole furniture of our apartments consisted of a piece of a cart-wheel for a fender ; a bit of iion, prob- ably from the same vehicle, for a poker ; a dirty deal table, and three wooden-bottomed chairs. It was the first time we had joined the regiment, and I was stand- ing by the fire, meditating on our forlorn state, and perhaps dwelling too much on the comforts I had lost, when I was roused from my reverie by Elizabeth's exclaiming, " O what a blessing !" ' Blessing !' I replied, ' there seems none left.' " Indeed there is, " my dear mother ; for see, here is a little cupboard." I dried my tears, and endeavoured to learn fortitude from my daughter.'* 54 MISS SMITH S LITE. Mrs. Smith has often mentioned to her friends the ingenuity, as well as good-humour, with which Eliz- abeth contrived to make a currant tart in this uncom- fortable dwelling, when it appeared quite impractica- ble. I mention these trifling circumstances, because I wish to convince my young readers that learning is not incompatible with the most minute attention to all the peculiar duties, as well as to all the elegant accom- plishments, which belong to the female character. For the same reason I think it right to notice Miss Smith's particular attention to ceconomy, when cir- cumstances made it proper. No young lady dressed with more elegant simplicity, but none could do this at less expense. She made a gown or a cap, or any other article of dress, with as much skill as she dis- played in explaining a problem in Euclid, or a difficult passage in Hebrew ; and nothing which she thought it right to do, was ever neglected. The modesty and simplicity of her character is so justly described in a letter written* since her death by her friend Thomas Wilkinson to Mrs. Smiih, that I hope I may be per- mitted to make a few extracts from it : — " Her acquirements must be allowed to have been wonderful ; but to me the most astonishing thing is how she has done so much, for she never appeared to do any thing, and every one who saw her would have * See Appendix. Letter IX. MISS smith's life. 55 been more apt to have r.upposed her indolent than in- dustrious ; but though her progress of improveTnent was silent as light, yet it was certain ss time. In her knowledge she was as modest as in every thing else ; never presuming to be ivise on a discovery or a judicious observation. Always simple, sweet, and innocent in her demeanour, she never gave herself an air of con- sequence for genius, learning, or beauty, though she possessed them all. In company she kept back so much, that some would be in danger of forgetting phe Was there ; but when called on to speak, she did it so much to the purpose, so pleasingly, and so unaffect- edly, that one wished no one to speak but herself. Some might have supposed her of an absent cast, but nothing was further from her character, for her replies were the readiest I ever knew when information was wanted. Her countenance was serious, but she not un- frequently smiled, and it was the smile of complacency and peace." After a second visit at Kingston-lodge, the ladies removed with Captain -Smith to Lisburn, from whence the next letter was written to Lady Isabella King. a Lisbum, Sept. 18, 1796. " My dearest Lady Isabella will, I hope, believe that I should not so long have delayed fulfilling my promise of writing to her, had not many impediments 56 MISS smith's life. jjj^jH come in the way. First, on our arrival here we recol- lected that no letter could reach Kingston-Lodge till Thursday ; it was therefore useless to write on Satur- day, and since that time we have been in constant ex- pectation of being ordered to march : and as my chief object in writing to you is a selfish one,— to have the happiness of hearing from you,— I waited till I could tell where to direct. I believe, however, it is now set- tled that we remain here till we go to England ; and when that will be I know not. Now I have got over this tiresome preface, which I hate of all things, let me amuse myself with telling you how sincerely I regret Kingston-Lodge, audits kind inhabitants, and above all our little walks in the shrubbery, which I have been wishing for every day since. By the by I have a little quarrel with a certain lady for a speech she made me the last moment I saw her, importing that I should for- get her as soon as I was gone, or some such vile idea. I could not quarrel at the moment, but wrote some verses to assure her it was impossible ; they were however too sleepy to send, and I must content my- self with assuring her in plain prose, that every day, by making me feel the want of her sweet society, en- dears her to me if possible siill more. " I forgot to tell you that we met with no accident on our journey, except laming the horses, and tiring them so that we were obliged to leave them at Lurgan, ten miles fs'om hence, to be led home on Saturday . 3nSS SMITH S LIFE. 51 Poor Brunette,* considering she was not quite well when she set out, performed surprisini2;ly, and has now, with a few days' rest, quite recovered from her fatigues. The riders were not at all tired, but much amused with their journey. The country on this side of Belturbet is very pretty ; about Monaghan beautiful, composed entirely of green hills, rivers, lakes, and fine woods. On this side of Armagh, though still richly cultivated, it grows gradually too flat to please me, till it spreads about this place nearly into a plain, which, though it is very rich, and in general much admired, cannot compensate to me for the mountains about Sligo. " We saw on a hill, between Carrick and Ballyna- more, an immense figure cut in stone, which the coun- try people told us was Fiuhn Mac Coul, who you know is Macpherson's Fingal. If you can learn any partic- ulars respecting it, I shall be much obliged to you. The only curiosity we saw besides was one of the old round towers that puzzle the Antiquarians so rwuch at Clounish. " I must tell you a piece of good-fortune that befel me by the way. The Inn where we breakfasted at Armagh was opposite to a Bookseller's shop, and my mother proposed going to see if there were any Irish books. We went and found the first number of an Irish Magazine now publishing at Belfast, in which was a grammar, and some poems v;ith translations. * A horse which Lad^EjufiANOR King had given to Miss Smith. o8 MISS SMITH S LIFE. You will suppose I have been very busy ever since. If you have any thoughts of learning the language, I would advise you to get this book. Pray remember me most kindly, gratefully, and respectfully, to Lady Eleanor ; give my love to Miss King, and to my best friend Lady Isabella say — nothing ;— .she knows, I hope, that I love her entirely. " Our little plan of riding with my Father through Scotland is impracticable, as no officer can leave his regiment at present. This place is head-quarters, which I am glad of, because we have the band, which is a very good one. " I hope you observe what a curious mistake I have made in beginning on the wrong side of the pa- per. — As this is a Hebrew letter, or rather the letter of a fool, please to begin at the end." " Bath, Jan. 13, 1797. '' Fully did I intend, on receiving your Ladyship's long-wished-for letter, to obey your orders, and answer it directly. At length, after nearly a month has elapsed, here I am set down to begin, but when I shall finish is more than I know, for I have a strange an- tipathy in writing to any one I love when any human creature is present : it is as bad as talking in mixed company. I feel a sort of restraint which extends even to my ideas, and I cannot think freely. I carry this so far, that I do not like to read a book wliich inter- ests me when any one is present, and always make MISS smith's Life. 59 to myself a kind of solitude by hiding my face with it when I come to a passage which particularly pleas- es me. I believe this is a sort of pride which cannot bear to expose its feelings to observation. Whatever may be the cause, so it is ; and I have been waiting in hop-iS of being left alone to write to my dearest La- dy Isabella. It has never happened till to-day ; for there are so many of us that we have no separate rooms, but all sit constantly together. Do not con- sider this as an apology for not writing sooner ; apologies are the first things we should banish from our new correspondence, as being weeds which are apt to over-run the whole letter, to the destruction of every plant of common sense which possibly might otherwise fill their place. Your Ladyship's first rule will stand instead of all apologies. Secondly, for the liberty of talking nonsense ; I must grant what I beg to be allowed for myself : moreover, I should hate a letter which contained nothing but good sense ; it would be as dull as those assemblies where people meet to talk sense, and no one dares utter a syllable. Thirdly, you shall change your subject, break off and begin again, and play as many variations as you please. As to not willing to me for six months, I do not feel myself sufficiently disinterested to grant that with my own free will ; though it is not in my power to help myself, if you will not write to me, and I certainly nev- er shall harbour any suspicion or distrust, for there is nothing to which I have such a decided aversion. Were I to say that I should not find pleasure in read- 60 MISS smith's life. ing your Ladyship's letters, in whatever number of scraps and humours they were written, I hope you would not believe me. As for the hand-writing, it is a maxim of mine, that whoever writes me a copper- plate letter, does not love me, and vice verfo not see that the failure of intellect which we sometimes observe iji old people, and in young ones in some cases of sickness, is any argument against the ■immortality of the soul. We are ignorant how the soul will act after its separation from the body ; but we know that during their union, neither can do any thing without the assistance of the other ; therefore, when the faculties decay, we are not to suppose that the soul is injured, but that the organs, whatever they are, by which it communicates with the body, and by which ideas are presented to it, have sustained some damage. As, if a man become blind, we do not say that his soul is changed, but that the organ by which images were presented to it, is injured ; and accor- dingly, if his eyes are cured, the soul is just as able to distinguish objects as ever. In the same manner, the sick person, whose nerves (or whatever it is on which the soul immediately acts) have recevered their tone, is able to think, and speak, and understand, as form- erly. The workman is not in fault, but some part of liis machine is out of order." " The most difficult vice to conquer, is pride ; I mean a high idea of our own merits, and a spirit of rebellion. Tliis came in Eve's way ; sue fell, and per- MISS smith's life. 6% haps there is not one of her posterity who would not have done the same." " Rea^son is the most unreasonable of all things, for witnout common sense to guide it, it never knows where to stop." " The most inconsistent thing in the world is to ex- pect consistency of man, at the same time that we know him to be entirely dependent on circumstances. What we have most earnestly wished, is often proved by events to have been the worst thing that could hap- pen to us. We do, and must, change our opinions according to every circumstance that occurs, unless we could know all things, and take in the present, past, and future, at a glance." " It is surprising how the opinions of the same person change in the course of a few years. It is therefore improving, as well as amusing, to write down the thoughts that occur, in order to look them over after some time, and see in what respects I may have advanced, in what receded, and rectify errors." " I HAVE no idea of heaping up money, or of any pleasure of saying so much is mine ; it is not mine till I use it. I shall therefore, whenever I have any, lay tt 6* 6i MISS smith's life, out as I find proper occasions ; trusting to that Provi- clence which has never suffered me to want, even when I had no probable means of subsisting, to supply me when I stand in need. Never refuse to give to-day, lest you should want to-morrow." " How light are all the troubles of this world to those who value every thing it contains according to its real AVorth ! They may appear insensible to those who reckon by a different standard, but they can bear even this imputation, for they know the value of human ap- phuse. How happy should vve be, if we could always ^eel as we sometimes think .'" " I CANNOT bear to hear people say, ' such a person did me a favour, but I have returned it, and am no long- er obliged to him.' If any one does rne a favour, with- out the least expectation or wish of a reward, though it should afterwards be in my power to do ten times more for that person, I can never repay the original obliga- tion, from which its nature does not admit of any rec- ompense, but remains for ever in its full force." " One great cause of the republican spirit which prevails at present, appears to have been a false prin- ciple in education, that it is necessary to convince a child by reason before you expect him to obey. Now reason, being the faculty of comparing ideas already Wm MISS smith's life. 67 presented to the mind, cannot exist in a child, to whom few or no ideas have been presented ; and no one was ever convinced by the reasoning of another. It is therefore impossible to convince him ; and if he be suffered to do as he please till he be capable of reason- ing, it is a great chance if his understanding be not so warped by the practice of evil, that he mistake it for good ; and it is most probable that he may have con- tracted such a habit of disobedience, as not willingly to submit to the laws of his country, or even to those of his God." " The progress of vmderstanding is like learning to play on a musical instrument. Education does not create it, any more than a music-master ci'eates fingers. It only gives us the power of using them rightly. Give an instrument to a peson who has never heard music, and who is ignorant of the principles of it, he ■will probably produce some sound, but it will be dis- cordant and without meaning. This I should suppose the state of a man who has always lived on a desolate island by himself He will have found the use of his bodily organs, but will scarcely have discovered his mental faculties. On the contrary, a person who has been taught the principles of music, makes himsetf perfectly acquainted with them by practice, till from playing the music of others, he at length composes new on the same principles ; as he learns to use his understanding first by reading and hearing the opinioils 68 MISS smith's life. of others, and then forms his own. Thus the soul and body are reciprocally as the musician and the in- strument." " I FIND nothing so effectual in abating self conceit as to look on people who evidently have quite as high an opinion of themselves in any given respect, as I have, and to see thai they are mistaken. It is very possible I may be so too." " It is the fashion now to consider the abilities of women as being on an equality with those of men. I do not deny that there may be many women whose abilities, and still more their powers of conversation, | are superior to those of the generality of men ; but there never was among women a Milton, a Newton, &c." " The more talents and good qualities we have re- Geived, the more humble we ought to be, because we have the less merit in doing right." " How very narrow are all the limits of the human understanding ! Our situation in this world is like that of a person gropuig about in the dark. Whatever path of science we turn into, we meet with no obsta- cles that may not easily be surmounted, we flatter ourselves that we have^made great discoveries, and MISS smith's life. 69 think there will be no end of our progress till we per- fectly understand every thing ; when on a sudden we knock our heads against the mud walls of our habita- tion, and are beat back by the blow to the centre of igr norance from whence we set out." *' No event which I thought unfortunate has ever happened to me, but I have been convinced, at some lime or other, that it was not a misfortune, but a bles- sing. I can never then in reason complain of any thing that happens, because I am persuaded it is per- mitted for some good purpose." " I AM surprised, uia observing my thoxights, to find how very rarely they are employed in any thing worth thinking about, how seldom they are even common sense. Conscience tells me that a great part of my life is wasted in foolish imaginations and idle dreams. " We cannot have a more striking proof of the in- capacity of man, than the methods he takes to hide from himself his own ignorance. When he meets with any thing in nature Avhich he can neither explain nor understand, he invents a name, by which he impos- es on the world with an appearance of wisdom ; and sometimes even fancies himself wise, because he has not acknowledged his ignorance. For instance, we pretend to know what it is that moves the planets in 70 MISS smith's life. their orbits, and we call it attraction ; though it is plain we are no wiser than if the word had never been used. We meet with a fossil of which we cannot account for the formation, a plant or an animal differing from any we have before seen, we say it is alususnatu7'